


Hot and Humid In July, and It Hardly Matters

by Tooti_Fruity



Series: Cacophony and Entropy and Apathy In NYC [2]
Category: Futurama
Genre: 1990s, Bender is Afro-Latinx, Homophobia, Human AU, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Maybe a bit OOC? I swear the next one will be more in character guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tooti_Fruity/pseuds/Tooti_Fruity
Summary: Bender didn't expect the knock on his door at 3 am last Tuesday night, and he expected to find Fry on the other side even less. And the fact that this is throwing him for a loop? Yeah, it's pissing him off.Only a little, though.





	

The knock at his door was the thing that woke Bender up. 

It was pouring rain outside in the sticky July heat, the humidity causing every piece of clothing to stick to your skin if you weren’t cool enough, and it had to be at least 3 am. Benjamin “Bender” Rodriguez, who was only clad in his plaid boxers, had been passed out and slightly hungover from the party mere hours before, when the loud rapping came at his door. Bender swore when he was awoken by the noise, slipping into a t shirt and track pants and brushing the empty pizza box off his bed as he grumbled obscenities under his breath. The loud knocks continued every few seconds, gradually becoming louder and more frantic as he shuffled as fast as his weary body possibly could, shouting roughly,

“For fucks sake, I’m coming. Knock it off!” Finally arriving at the front room, he prepared to launch into full rant mode as he swung the door open with an indignant, “Do you have any idea what time it-”

He stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening.

“Fry? What the hell are you doing here this time of night?” he hissed, blinking away the crust from his sleepy eyes. Fry, who had only now seemed to notice the door had been opened, his neck strained down, stayed staring at his shoes, wordless. Bender huffed in annoyance.

“Well?” His scowl, however, dissipated when his boyfriend lifted his bowed head, back minutely straightening, eyes red and puffy. 

“Hey Bender…can I stay here for a little while?” It was only then Bender noticed that Fry had his backpack and duffle bag. Bender nodded, dumbfounded. 

“Sure, buddy. Whatever you need. Here, I’ll get your bag,” he mumbled, picking up the black sports bag and pulling Fry in by his wrist. The whole way in, Fry was hunched over, his whole body tighter with tension than a loaded gun. As soon as they were both in safely, Bender kicked the door closed with his bare foot. 

Bender turned to look at Fry, who had sat down on his parents’ shitty futon and buried his flushed face in his hands. Wordlessly, Bender plopped down next to him and stared at the off-white walls, stained slightly from years of his family smoking inside their two-bedroom apartment. He slid a careful arm around his boyfriend, pulling him in minusculely closer and burying his face in his orange hair.

“You wanna talk about it?” he murmured. Fry silently shook his head, refusing to remove his hands and look at his beau, before he crooned a hoarse, 

“Not now. Later,” Bender nodded, rushing to assure him.

“Whatever you need, baby. When you’re ready,” He moved to get up, but suddenly he was pulled back, Fry’s arms around his waist like a vice. 

“Don’t leave me!” he croaked, his voice sore from misuse. Bender immediately stopped trying to stand, leaning into Fry and hugging him impossibly tight. 

“I wasn’t leaving,” he assured Fry frantically. “I was just going to get you a beer. You look like you could use it,” Fry finally looked at him, eyes still bloodshot.

“Promise?” he whispered. Bender leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

“Scout’s honor,” he swore. Fry, for the first time, snickered. 

“Like you were ever a Boy Scout,” he mumbled. Bender smirked.

“Hey, I went to Scouts’ camp for a week. Got kicked out for pickpocketing the counselors,” he preened. Fry snorted, resting his head on Bender’s chest.

“Only you would be proud of that…” Fry trailed off. “Where’s your parents?” Bender shrugged.

“Out of town. Something about a second honeymoon.... they’ll be back at the end of the week," Fry nodded, taking this in.

“You know I love you, right?” Fry mumbled. Bender nodded, grinning mischievously. 

“Course you do. Everyone does,” he bragged, before his face softened, and he replied in a more serious voice, “I know. I love you too, meatbag,” Fry blinked at him owlishly, before pulling back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s my parents…” he whispered. “Bender, they know…they know about us,” he muttered. Bender gaped at him. 

“They…” Bender trailed off. Fry swallowed and whimpered miserably, 

“Bender, they kicked me out,” Bender sucked in a breath, struggling for the right words. Fry, too despondent to take notice of his boyfriend’s difficulty expressing himself, continued, his voice shaky. “They said if I wanted to…” His voice wobbled with grief as he fought to keep himself from falling apart. “…'fag it up' with a…a dirty spic…” Bender growled low in his throat. “…that I could…take it up the ass homeless,” Fry gazed at him miserably. “They said such horrible things about you Bender, calling you the most awful names. I just couldn’t let them…say those things about you. I had to defend you, and…they gave me half an hour to get whatever shit I could carry and get out,” 

Bender, without another word, took Fry in his arms, griping him as tightly as he could, and it was if a dam broke as Fry began to sob so hard he hiccupped. He clutched onto Bender for dear life, trembling and balling up the stained pajama shirt his boyfriend was wearing in his tight fists, wetting his chest with tears and snot. Bender, through the whole ordeal, never let go, patiently grounding him like an anchor in a hurricane. 

They continued like this for a good few minutes, with Fry’s crying muffled by Bender’s chest and Bender holding him unwearyingly, until eventually Fry gazed up with him through his tears. Bender’s breath caught.

Fry had never been a pretty crier; his eyes got puffy and stung with tears, and his nose ran like a river that he seldom bothered to barricade, and his face flushed red, and…

He had never been more beautiful.

Bender leaned in tenderly and pressed his lips to Fry’s chapped and tear soaked mouth, affectionately bringing his much larger hands up to cup his face. Fry was still for a moment, but it was only a few beats of hesitation before he had coiled his arms around Bender’s waist and fervently reciprocated the kiss. Fry reached down to his lap, feeling for him, but Bender caught his hand and gently pulled it away, breaking the contact of their mouths and bringing Fry’s hand up to his face to kiss his knuckles.

“Not now, Fry,” he murmured fondly. “You’re not feeling good,” Fry’s brow furrowed helplessly as his face crumbled at the rejection. 

“I want you, Bender…I need you to make me forget,” he begged. Bender hesitated. He knew Fry was in an emotional high and might regret fucking on his parents’ couch, but Fry had always been his one weakness. He faltered, and sighed in defeat.

“Alright. But only on one condition,” Fry nodded eagerly, and Bender kissed him again. “You let me take care of you,” Fry smiled warmly. 

“You always do,” he whispered.

Bender slid down his best friend’s body, as he pulled off his stained t shirt and began to unbutton Fry’s pants. He paused, glancing up at him. 

“You tell me if it gets to be too much. Tonight is about you, Wiggles,” he said in a faux stern voice. Fry gave him a small smile and nodded. 

Bender eased Fry out of his jeans, allowing him to kick them off once they were at his ankles and slipped back up his body, resting at Fry’s neck. He pressed his lips into the crook of Fry’s neck, sucking gently at first and progressively applying more pressure with every passing second. He slid a hand down into Fry’s underwear, and felt his lover suck in a fevered breath as he tenderly began to palm him.

“Shit,” Fry swore, biting his fist to stifle his moans. Bender used his other hand to pull Fry’s fist away from his mouth, hissing in his ear that he wanted to hear him. Fry groaned loudly as Bender began to stroke him.

Bender climbed on top of his love, straddling his waist and kissing him roughly, shoving his tongue into Fry’s mouth, pulling back occasionally to murmur affirmations as he grinded down against Fry’s waist. Fry groaned into his mouth and clutched at his back, hissing,

“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” Bender pulled back, his brow furrowed.

“Fry, I…I don’t want to hurt you. You’re not doing so hot,” Fry gazed up at him, eyes heavily lidded with lust, before he leaned up to suck on Bender’s right ear and whisper,

“I need you, right now Bender. Now. I need to forget. I can’t wait,” Bender swore under his breath, his resolve crumbling.

“Alright. First, let me clean all this shit up. You can go shower while I change; meet me in my room when you’re ready, okay?” Fry nodded, sliding out from under him and slipping into the wash room. 

Bender shook his head. This man was going to be the death of him.  
~~~~~~~~~  
Bender woke up at noon with Fry curled up against his chest; the room was in disarray from the previous night, blankets and pillows strewed all over the floors and clothes haphazardly misplaced on his bedroom floor. Bender, despite knowing in his mind that he should probably get up, opted instead to continue embracing Fry tightly. 

It was nearly 3 pm before Bender shook Fry away. 

“Meatbag, wake up,” he grumbled. Fry groaned and remained glued to his side, refusing to move for a solid minute before he finally gave in and sat up. 

“Wha’ time izit?” he slurred. Bender sighed.

“3 in the afternoon,” Fry’s eyes widened. 

“Why the hell did you let me sleep so late?” Bender snorted.

“Because you needed the rest, dumdum,” Fry balked, indignantly huffing something insulting in return. Bender only laughed, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on the other’s mouth.

“Shut up, fleshtube,” he murmured affectionately. Fry smiled warmly, despite the biting words; after over two years of dating and nearly a decade as best friends, he had learned to speak the subtle language of Bender, and despite not being particularly good at anything else, he had learned all the nuances of Bender’s affection and how to tell when he was being malicious and when he wasn’t, regardless of the words he chose. 

“We need to get up,” he mumbled against Bender’s thick neck. Bender, in a rare moment of compliance, agreed.  
~~~~~~~~~  
It was several hours later when Fry mentioned the previous night at all. They were sitting on the futon in his living room, watching an All My Circuits marathon and drinking cheap beer, when he finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry for coming over so late. I just…had nowhere else to go,” he mumbled. Bender sat up, placing one hand over Fry’s and resting the other on his pale, freckled face so that their eyes met.

“It’s not a problem. Seriously. I’m glad you’re here and not with your asshole parents, meatbag. And…” He hesitated. “…I’m happy you’re safe and…stuff,” he finished in a rough tone. Fry felt his face heat as he leaned in to kiss him again; Bender, however, pushed him back with a coy smirk. 

“Not now, fleshtube. We gotta watch All My Circuits,” So they settled into a comfortable silence.  


Bender hardly knew if his parents would let Fry stay with them permanently. And if they wouldn’t…well, he wouldn’t think about that right now. His parents weren’t exactly thrilled with him being queer, but they tolerated it fine, and they had always liked Fry; whether it was because he was a good influence on him or because he made him happy was a question whose answer had eluded Bender for years.

Bender snuck a glance over at his boyfriend, their hands still comfortably snaked together between them; he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, though he had thrown on a pair of Bender’s old sweatpants (which, Bender decides, needs to be something he does more often; seeing Fry in his clothes is one of the hottest things imaginable), and his pale body was slightly chubby from a lack of exercise and regular consumption of junk food. He was slathered in freckles that were the same shade of orange as his hair, and currently his head was thrown back in laughter at a joke from the show they were watching, his face slightly flushed from the summer heat, his lips chapped and slightly damp from his beer, his eyes crinkling with mirth. He gazed over at Bender with his lovely blue eyes, his brows raised.

“Whatcha looking at, Bender?” he asked, his face portraying genuine curiosity. Bender smirked, scooting over on the couch and pulling Fry into his lap.

“Just enjoying the view, meatbag,” he teased. Fry flushed, which looked gorgeous against his nearly colorless face, as Bender leaned up to bring their lips together, their show long forgotten.

Neither knew what the future would hold; it certainly wouldn’t be the last time the rejection of his parents would haunt Fry. There would be many nights where he would curl up into Bender and shake with grief, crying and holding on for dear life. There would days where he would be irritable, which is the worst disposition to have around Bender due to his equally explosive demeanor. And there might even come a time where Fry would succumb to the pressure from everyone in his life that was screaming that their relationship was wrong because of their differing races, economic backgrounds, and on account of them both being male, and Bender’s worst nightmare would come to life and Fry would figure out that he could do miles better than him and leave.

Bender knew all this, and none of it hardly mattered as long as Fry kept looking at him like that and saying his name in that tone.

Bender clutched Fry’s waist and kissed him tenderly, and he could’ve sworn time stopped, though he’d never admit it to anyone on account of it damaging his image, and it was a long time before they parted. Fry pulled back, lips swollen and red from Bender sucking and biting them, and his face red with arousal, and God was he magnificent.

“Am I really worth it?” Bender mumbled before he would process exactly what he was asking. He froze when Fry seemed to think about it for a second, before leaning in and kissing him fervently once more.

“You idiot,” he muttered affectionately. “I made my choice. And I will ALWAYS choose you,” 

Bender felt warm all over, and time had stopped, and all was right in world.  
~~~~~~~~  
The rain falls in sheets in the sweltering heat of the late summer, July night, and in apartment 4B of their New York apartment, two young men sleep serenely in each other’s’ arms. 

Somewhere else, someone else knocks on a door at 3 am. Neither hear it.

All is well.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love any feedback guys! I plan to turn this into a series! :)


End file.
